


Why the caged bird sings

by ferggirl



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferggirl/pseuds/ferggirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sara Lance is irritated by a certain thorough CSI during her time in Central City. He's not especially impressed with her when they meet again in the lair. Felicity is not amused by either of them.</p>
<p>(A first attempt to write out a possible Sara/Barry pairing.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why the caged bird sings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OpenPandorasBox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpenPandorasBox/gifts).



> All blame and credit to Ana for this one.

"I’m telling you," the tall young man was arguing with his colleagues above the body she’d dropped last night as he’d held a woman at gunpoint, "I think the assailant was small. Maybe a woman."

"A woman doesn’t have the force to kill with this violence, Allen," an older man scoffed. Sara Lance huffed a silent laugh from her perch, but was glad to hear the speculation lead in another direction. 

It was one thing for the criminal element of Central City to know and fear her. It was quite another to get onto the police radar.

Something she really needed to mention to Oliver, if she ever got up the nerve to drop by Starling City. 

The team finished up and left the young man, Allen, behind to pack up the gear with another assistant.  

"I’m telling you, there are stories of a woman in black - the best choice for city camouflage, by the way - who fights with a staff. If it breaks apart into two pieces, she could have struck this guy from over here and thrown him…"

"Barry," the girl sounded tired, "let it go. You said your piece. Our job is to assist. Not to determine."

Barry Allen.

Sara glowered through the dim light at the back of his head. She’d gone to some trouble to make sure it looked like a larger, heavier person had done this. She would have to keep an eye on him.

******

_6 months later_

Sara was no fool. She knew the League of Assassins would wait only so long before they sent for her again. But Oliver’s money could hide a lot of things, including a small apartment in Starling City where she had basic cable and a shower and a bed of her own. 

It was the closest she’d been to home in six years.

She hated to hide from her own family, to lie to her father and tell him she was gone again. But she’d seen him around the city, and he held himself taller, moving with a purpose that made her heart light. 

Maybe Oliver had been right, after all, about telling him. 

She was worried about Laurel. When she’d come back to Starling City the second time and Oliver had talked her into staying, one of the things he’d said was that Laurel needed her.

He wasn’t wrong. 

Her sister was spiraling. Laurel, always the strong, sober, sensible sister, was making bad choices and hanging out with the wrong people. She was closing herself off and sinking under the weight of her sorrows.

The guilt of her own contribution was heavy, but Sara didn’t think a reveal would ease this as it had the pain in her father’s eyes.

Laurel needed a wake up call. A scare.

That was why Sara was pacing the lair, absentmindedly knocking tennis balls thrown by the automatic launcher out of the air with her staff. 

She heard the door open, but didn’t think anything of it until the intruder had reach the sixth step.

He was glomping loundly, awkwardly, with a rushed pace and a distinct lack of balance. 

Not Diggle or Oliver, then. And Felicity tended to move much more lightly. 

Sara moved back into the shadows at the bottom of the steps and waited. When he touched the floor she was on him, her staff at his throat and her sonic cry activated with a flick of her wrist.

He yelped and fell to the ground, choking against the bar as he covered his ears.

"Sara!" Felicity was yelling as she ran down the stairs, her hands on her ears. Sara nudged a button and cut the cry off, but held pressure on his throat.

"Are you all right, Felicity?" she called, more worried than she’d like to admit. The younger woman had been getting into hot water a lot lately, mostly because Oliver had a tendency to over-rely on her ability to be everywhere and do everything. If someone had forced her to reveal the lair… "How badly do I need to hurt him?"

"Don’t - don’t hurt him," Felicity gasped, skidding to a stop in front of her and pulling at the staff. "Wow, you’ve really got a grip on that. Barry’s a friend. Oliver asked him to come. And I  _think_  he’s turning a little blue.”

Sara released her pressure and stepped back, wishing for the anonymity of her Canary outfit and mask. She didn’t need anyone else to know her secret. There were already four too many people in Starling City who knew her name.

But if Oliver and Felicity trusted him… She twisted her staff into two pieces, its less threatening form, and stared at him contemplatively.

He was on his hands and knees, head bowed as he worked to breathe normally. She still hadn’t seen his face, but she felt certain she’d seen the back of his head somewhere before.

Felicity patted his shoulder and sighed in Sara’s direction. 

"Sara, this is Barry Allen, he was with Central City’s CSI unit," she smiled, at least aware enough to leave off the Lance from her introduction. "Barry helped us all out a few weeks ago while he was in town on an investigation. Not the enemy, I promise."

"You brought the  _police_  in here?” she couldn’t hide her incredulity. Not only was this the jerk who’d come so close to breaking open several of her frame jobs in Central, but somehow Oliver and Felicity had lost their minds and allowed him access to… to everything.

He came to his feet, finally, faster than she’d have expected, and turned in a flash.

"Did they ever," he smiled nervously, his voice still hoarse from the way she’d considered crushing his windpipe a few minutes ago. "Drugged with a dart! I woke up and could not believe it. Oh! But don’t worry, I’m way out of my jurisdiction. And Starling PD never wants to share any of their information, so… I owe them no favors."

Sara blinked. That was a lot of words. And smiling. He had a nice smile. Hadn’t she just tried to kill him?

"Right, ok," Felicity looked between the two of them and smiled a little smile that Sara did not approve of. "Barry, no bugging Sara. Sara, why are you here and not home? I wasn’t expecting anyone else tonight."

"Neither was I," she snapped, moving away from the pair of them. She screwed her staff back together and stowed it in its holder.

"Wait." Barry sounded like he’d just seen a ghost. "That staff. Your height. You definitely have the power... Felicity, we should, uh, we maybe need to get something out of the car."

Felicity locked sympathetic eyes with Sara. “I forgot you two might have crossed paths before.”

"He thinks I’m going to hurt you," Sara sneered, her defenses slamming back into place and aggression rearing its head. "If I wanted to hurt you, an escape to the car would not save you. You could never run fast enough, Allen."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, thinking better of whatever had just crossed his mind. 

Felicity glared at her. “He’s a friend.” She turned to Barry, and with a slightly more soothing tone said, “You’re perfectly safe here.”

"Felicity," he said urgently, "there were seven separate murders that I thought could be attributed to…"

"And how many bodies did Oliver drop his first year out?" Felicity chided. "Sometimes, there are reasons."

"And sometimes they aren’t as good as they should be," he muttered. 

"I don’t remember needing to run my reasons by any skinny CSI who spends his weekends hanging with another city’s vigilante." 

Felicity threw up her hands. “Fine, be stupid and mean to each other. But Barry’s here for a while because he… well, he is. Sara is also here for a while. I hate it when people fight. So do so elsewhere and don’t leave bruises.”

She sat down with a flounce at her computer chair and stuck her headphones on. 

Sara gathered up her things. She didn’t want to sit here and feel his green eyes follow her around, full of judgment and distrust. 

She could pace just as well at home.

Except, as it turned out, those green eyes lingered in her mind for the rest of the night. And when she firmly shut down her confused feelings, she was distracted again by the memory of how his smile had seemed to stretch across his whole face, lighting a glow within. A glow that had gone out when he realized who she was.

She destroyed two practice dummies and broke her mirror with a deflected tennis ball before she tired herself enough to sleep that night.


End file.
